Cause I Never Knew a Home Until I Found Your Hands
by VeVe2491
Summary: "Be fearless in your pursuit of what sets your soul on fire!" Austin is pretty sure Dez has stolen that quote from some hipster Instagram account but he appreciates the sentiment no less. Not that Dez's stolen words change anything, he said he was done with music and he meant it.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **Prologue**

There are students and parents everywhere, swarming the quad like bees to a hive, it would be suffocating if the day wasn't already so liberating. The crowd is moving as one towards the football field and with every step they take Austin swears he can feel his body vibrating with the excitement of it all.

To his left are his parents, hands clasped together in an effort to stay close and matching smiles of pride stretched across their lips. They've been waiting for this day for eighteen years, their hearts fit to burst with happiness as they acknowledge how far their only son has come in life; the niggling feeling in Austin's stomach tells him they aren't going to be too pleased with him later tonight but there's a much larger part of him that tells him not to care, so he doesn't.

On his right is his best friend, partner and soulmate, Ally Dawson. He's known Ally for as long as he can remember, neighbours since they were five and best friends from the moment she'd snatched his corn-dog from his hand and reprimanded him for eating and playing at the same time, apparently it was a safety hazard. By twelve Austin had known he was going to spend the rest of his life loving Ally and by fifteen she had come to feel the same.

At eighteen they're walking hand in hand towards their high school graduation, otherwise known as the future, but Austin's not scared. He's got his girl at his side and the world at his fingertips, what more could he ask for?

Naturally Ally is terrified, her palms are slick with sweat and she is gnawing nervously on a lock of her thick brown hair. As valedictorian she's expected to give a heart-warming and inspiring speech to students and faculty alike in less than an hour, so Austin supposes she has every right to be anxious but if he's being honest he can't find it in himself to worry. Ally has been an overachiever from the moment she had left the womb, there is no doubt in Austin's mind that she's going to give the best damn speech Marino High has ever seen.

As Austin pushes his way through the hefty number of people that are shuffling towards the graduation ceremony he feels a sharp tug on his arm before turning to find himself face to face with his rather pale looking girlfriend. In a split second he's ushering her back across the parking lot and around the back of the gymnasium, through the always conveniently unlocked fire doors and into the nearest girl's bathroom. It isn't long before Ally is on her knees praying to the porcelain throne and relieving her stomach of its minimal contents.

Sighing, Austin stands behind her, dutifully holding back her hair as she heaves into the ceramic bowl. "I don't get why you're so worked up about this. You've been working on this speech for weeks, even I have it committed to memory at this point!"

Ally wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, mustering up what Austin assumes is supposed to be a disapproving scowl but comes off as more of a weak grimace. "Why don't you just do it then?"

"And deprive the world of your beautiful speech giving voice?" Austin teases, gently thumbing away a stray tear that's drifted down Ally's cheek. "Never. Besides it'd be a bit hypocritical of me to stand in front of the entire student body lecturing them on the merits of further education and always striving to do better when if anything I'm the total opposite."

Ally snorts. "You're not that bad, you got through finals just fine. Besides it's not like you didn't get into college, which if I'm being totally honest really worried me for a while. I can't imagine being all the way in New York without you." She reaches out to give his hand a squeeze, her soft fingers brushing over his own tough, calloused ones.

Austin bites his lip, carefully debating his next few words. His silence must give something away, or maybe Ally just knows him that well that she can tell by the sudden change in his eyes and the hitch in his breath. Ally drops his hand.

"What?" Her words are no longer playful and laced with affection, instead sharp and accusatory. "What? What have you done?"

Austin suddenly regrets not having this conversation sooner but he's always been one to procrastinate, even when it comes to the most important things in his life. "I haven't done anything… yet."

Ally pushes him away, struggling to crawl to her feet because her body is still exhausted from its bout of nervous nausea. Once she's standing at her full height, which really isn't all that much because Austin is still a foot taller than her, Ally fixes him with the kind of glare he usually only ever gets from his mom when he's being a particular brand of nuisance.

"What do you mean 'yet'? I swear to God Austin if you are planning to do anything that could jeopardize our graduation ceremony I will jam my foot so far up your butt it will come out of your mouth!"

Ordinarily Austin might have been sort of turned on by Ally's sudden display of dominance, but right now it hurts because even in her wildest dreams Ally cannot even begin to imagine what he is about to tell her. "No that's nothing to do with me, I mean I heard some guys from the football team had some prank planned for later on but I promise you I am not involved."

"So what is it Austin? You're being cagey, you've been acting off for a couple of weeks and I just thought it was because you were nervous about getting accepted into college but then we got in to NYU so I knew that couldn't be it and – Are you breaking up with me? Is that why you've been so distant lately, do you want to break up with me?!"

Ally's eyes are filling up with tears and her breathing is so shallow Austin is more than a little concerned that she's going to have a panic attack. "Ally, you need to calm down. I'm not breaking up with you, I love you and losing you is the last thing I could ever want, okay?"

It takes several deep breathes and some cold water from the sink to soothe her but eventually Austin convinces Ally to stop panicking. Unfortunately no amount of breathing exercises and running his hands through her hair in the way he knows she likes will get her to drop the subject.

"What are you hiding from me?" Ally sniffs, staring up at her boyfriend with a blotchy face and red rimmed eyes. "I love you, okay? Whatever it is that's been bothering you we can work through together as a team. I don't care if you want to shave off all your hair or if you insist I refer to you as 'the guitarist formerly known as Austin' from now until the day we die, okay? I don't care what it is, but you have to tell me. We're in this together."

Her words feel like knives piercing his skin and he knows that the moment the words leave his lips she's going to start screaming at him again and she'll probably do everything in her power to change his mind and he will because she's Ally and he'd do anything for her but… is it so much to want to do something for him for a change?

"I'm not going to college," Austin breathes, his words fall from his tongue in a hurried mess and his eyes are shut so tight it hurts but he can't open them, can't bear the thought of Ally's heartbroken gaze. Not only is he throwing away his future, or the future promised to him by his parents, various teacher's and the NYU website, but he's effectively shattered the future he and Ally have planned together for the past five years.

He only opens his eyes when the sounds of hysterical laughter meets his ears. Ally is cackling in a manner reminiscent of a hyena, her hands are clutched to her stomach and there are mirth filled tears streaming down her cheeks. Austin can't say this was how he envisioned the conversation going.

When Austin doesn't start laughing along with her Ally rounds on him, all traces of amusement disappearing from her dainty features, her normally warm brown eyes now cold and angry. "Wait, you're serious?"

Austin nods. "As a heart attack. Ally, college has always been your dream, not mine. I only applied because that was what everyone expected of me and I didn't really know what I wanted to do but now I know. I want to be a musician, I want to stand in front of hordes of people and sing the songs we've spent every day writing for the last thirteen years. College isn't going to give me that, but Jimmy Starr can."

"Jimmy Starr?" Ally repeats incredulously, she's begun pacing the back and forth across the tiny bathroom. "Jimmy Starr as in Starr Records Jimmy Starr?" Another nod from Austin. "So he's signed you then? He's seen you performing at Shredder's and he signed you?"

"Not exactly," Austin admits, running his hand through his hair despite knowing his mom will tell him off for it later, it's a nervous habit he'd picked up as a kid and he hasn't got time to worry about ruining a couple of graduation photos right now anyway. "But I know that if I can just play him my demo he will. Plus you know that guy from the dog food commercials, the one that kind of looks like me if you squint a little? Well I met his agent in the food court at the mall and he said he's seen me perform a couple of times and thinks he can really make something out of me, this could be my big break, Ally!"

"Are you even listening to yourself?!" Ally snaps, eyes wide with disbelief at her boyfriend's words. "Seriously? Of all the stupid things… You know this guy is scamming you, right? Let me guess, he thinks he can make something of you but he's gonna need some cash to do that first. Then he'll tell you he's gonna meet you in LA, get everything set up ready and waiting for when you get there so that by next week you'll be the next Justin Bieber! But only after handing over all your savings and arriving in LA essentially penniless you'll find out you've been played and that Mr Whatever-His-Name-Is has run off with all your money. Great idea, Austin, just great!"

"Do you not hear how ridiculous you sound? Jesus, Ally, I knew you watched way too many Lifetime movies but c'mon! That literally sounds like the plot of a bad Cheetah Girls fanfiction. For once in your life try not to be so close-minded and see that this could be a really great opportunity for me!" Austin pleads. He's aware that now Ally has put it like that Mr Onartistcay's intentions do seem a tad suspicious but then again Ally always has been a pessimist. "Besides I'm not talking about doing it alone. I want you to come with me."

Ally's jaw drops with such force that Austin is momentarily surprised when it doesn't drop off. "You want me to throw away college, to throw away my future, on a whim of yours that's probably going to end in us both being broke and homeless three thousand miles away from here? Not a chance! Austin, if you have any sense at all you'll accept your place at NYU and join me there this fall. I don't understand how after all this time, all these years of us planning our future together, how you could want to throw it all away on an idea as stupid as this. Has our entire relationship meant nothing to you? Did all the extra hours your parents put in at work, trying to make the money to send you to college, mean nothing to you? Where is your head right now, Austin?"

He knows her words make sense but they aren't hitting him where they need to be. Ally talks about how she can't understand him and Austin finds he's feeling the same way, he can't understand her either. "You're not my mom, Ally. You don't get to dictate to me what I can and can't do. Mr Onartistcay promised me he could make my dreams come true, and aren't you the one that's always telling me I should follow my dreams or whatever? So that's what I'm doing."

"If I'd have known me saying those things would have led to your brain vanishing from existence then I never would have said them! You're acting like an idiot."

Though they've next to no time before the graduation ceremony starts Ally starts ranting at him about the importance of college and how they can travel to LA together to chase his supposed 'dream' in four years once they've _both_ gotten their degrees. She tells him that if his dream does fall through then at least he'll have a college education to fall back on, that maybe he'll find a different dream to pursue in college and eventually he just tunes her out.

Nearly halfway into Ally's College-Is-The-Meaning-Of-Life speech Austin cuts her off. With his hands placed firmly atop her shoulders, his deep brown eyes locked directly onto her own hazel ones, he says, "I'm going to LA, are you coming with me or not?"

"If you love me you won't be this stupid. If you love me you will not do this to me," Ally replies, voice grave and gaze steely.

Austin sighs, he does love Ally but every mention of college makes his skin crawl and for him that's the deciding factor. "If you love me then you should know that I want this, Ally. That this, music, Los Angeles, stardom, have always been my dream. If you love me you'll let me go."

They stand in a stalemate for an unknown amount of time, it can't be much more than a minute but Austin swears it's an eternity. Finally, Ally backs away. Austin's heart dances with elation in his chest, he's won! They're going to LA, he's going to become the biggest star the world has ever seen and he's going to have his girl right there by his side.

"Then I guess we never loved each other at all," Ally whispers, her soft words bringing Austin's joy to an abrupt end. Her eyes are once again shining with tears and her lip is quivering as she fights the urge to break down right there on the dirty bathroom floor, it wouldn't be the first time today but it would be the first time Austin has been right there sobbing with her.

"What?" Austin sputters out. "No, Ally, we agreed, remember? We do things together, we always have! Ally, I love you, I want to be with you –"

"No you don't, Austin. You've made that pretty clear. Good luck following your 'dreams' and if you're ever in New York don't hesitate to stay the hell away from me," Ally shoves past him on her way towards the door, her shoulder colliding with Austin's arm with a strength he didn't know she possessed.

She's almost out of sight when she halts, hands buried in her satchel, a graduation gift from her mom. "Here, you may as well have this. It's filled with lies anyway, right?" She pulls a battered looking leather-bound book from her bag, tossing it carelessly at Austin's feet, it lands in the same region his heart seems to. In a second she is gone without a single glance back, her head is held high but the heavy sobs shaking her body provide a sharp contrast to the resolute image she is trying to portray.

He stares for some time at the door, waiting, hoping, that this is all just a dream and that Ally will return at any second and forgive him. She doesn't and eventually he has to accept that. Slowly, he bends to collect the book at his feet, a relic of his short lifetime with Ally, overflowing with poetic words they'd written together over the years.

As he stands he comes face to face with his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He is nothing of the boy that had entered. His hair is dishevelled, standing up at all angles as a result of him constantly playing with it throughout Ally's speech, his eyes are red and watery, even his graduation gown has lost its luster.

He tightens his grip on Ally's book, thumbs dragging over the twin felt A's on the cover. The book is filled with songs about following one's dreams, songs written at Ally's ancient keyboard in the middle of the night by two young kids who dared to hope. Those kid's never would have given up on him the way Ally had, they would have encouraged him to go for it, to shoot for the stars before he grows jaded.

Ally's made her decision, and now, he supposes, so has he.


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! Thank you for the wonderful reviews on the last chapter. The response on Twitter was incredible :) Hope you guys enjoy this next instalment! All reviews are greatly appreciated as they let me know what you, the readers, want from this fic!**

 **Also, to the anon who inquired about Auslly's relationship status, as of right now the pair are broken up, however that doesn't mean they won't get back together at some point ;) Ally is going to play an important part in Austin's story but so will various other characters. Hope that clears things up a bit without giving away too much; don't want to spoil anything!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Chapter One

Nothing is worse than a quiet day at the mall, Austin thinks. Not only does it mean the food court is void of anyone interesting to spend his lunch breaks with but more often than not it means Moon's Mattress Kingdom is dead, leaving Austin with nothing better to do than stare hopelessly at the store entrance, silently willing the occasional passer-by into the shop. Today is a quiet day.

With little to no customers to serve, Austin has spent the better part of his day playing wastepaper basketball by himself; unsurprisingly, it's a tedious game to play alone. Granted, there are a plethora of things he could be doing, his mom had taped a to-do list to the top of the cash register to serve as a constant reminder of the work he's supposed to do this week, but he just doesn't have it in him to do any of them.

For one thing every item on his mom's list is something that either requires incredible amounts of effort or is something that he could have done in a matter of seconds, therefore after much consideration Austin had decided completing the list simply wasn't worth it. In addition to this, he's not really sure who's supposed to watch the store while he's running around doing his mom's errands, so it makes sense not to do them, right?

It's nearly closing time when the bell above the entrance sounds for only the second time that day (the first had been when Austin had opened the store early that morning). Much to his relief the intruder is neither a customer nor his mom, it's Dallas.

Like Austin, Dallas also works under the watchful gaze of his parent's, only unlike Austin, Dallas doesn't have to worry about disappointing the people he's employed by. Whilst Mike and Mimi Moon have tried desperately to turn their son into a functioning, enthusiastic member of the Moon's Mattress Kingdom workforce, Dallas' mom doesn't really care what her son does as long as it's not illegal.

Though he'd never say it to the other boy's face, Austin can't help but find his friend's behaviour more than a little frustrating on occasion. Truthfully, Austin would give anything to have the kind of set up Dallas does; his parents' pay the rent on his condo downtown and his job at the library only requires him to make sure no one steals any books or has sex in the store room (apparently that's something that happens a lot). Beyond that, Dallas is given free rein to do as he pleases on the computer all day. His life is Austin's definition of heaven.

"Hey dude," Dallas grins as he swaggers over to the counter Austin has spent the better part of eight hours sat behind. "Guess who's got two thumbs and a date next Saturday?" He doesn't wait for Austin's reply before throwing himself down on the nearest test mattress and shouting, "Me."

"You finally asked out that girl from Amazing Glaze?" Austin questions, only half paying attention as he carefully lines up his next wad of paper; he's missed the last couple of times but he's positive this one's a winner.

"Nah, apparently she's got a boyfriend or something but whatever, she wasn't my type anyway," Dallas says trying almost too hard to sound nonchalant. He's had a crush on the donut girl for weeks, possibly the longest length of time Austin has known the other boy to spend on any girl ever, so there's no way he's not at least a little bummed out about it. "No, I asked out that cute blonde that works over at the Cheesecake Warehouse, you know the one with the eyebrows?"

"Pretty much all girls have eyebrows," Austin chuckles as he flicks his wrist, sending his paper ball sailing through the air and into the wastepaper basket several feet away. He'd jeer in victory if he didn't think Dallas would mock him for it. "Wait, eyebrows… Dude! Did you ask out Mindy?!"

Dallas smiles dopily up at him as though just talking about the girl is enough to make him weak; it's not, they've been through this charade before. Austin gives the relationship three dates, maybe four, before it's over and Dallas is back to quietly pining over the donut girl.

"You know she's like six years younger than you, right?" Austin says, a grimace on his face. He's only spoken to Mindy a couple of times but she's a sweet girl, it doesn't seem fair for her to get her heart broken by Dallas' untameable nature.

Dallas shakes his head in objection. "Nah, you're thinking of Mandy the girl that works at B.F Wangs. Mandy is still in school, Mindy's her cousin and fresh out of college," The brunette smirks as though he's just let Austin in on some kind of dirty secret.

"A college graduate, huh? Wonder why she's wasting her time on you then," Austin pretends to wonder aloud as he removes himself from his position behind the counter, preparing to close up shop. He merely grins in response as Dallas pelts him with forgotten paper balls.

"I'm sorry, which one of us only just this week moved out of their parents' house? Oh yeah, that would be you," Dallas huffs once he's run out of things to aim at Austin's head. "Besides, I don't think Mindy is the type to care that I never went to college, she's cool like that."

"Sure she is, until you knock her up and can't afford to support her and your child on a security guard's salary." Austin moves slowly throughout the store, hoping to waste as much time as he can before he can clock out; he knows his mom watches his work hours like a hawk. "And hey, at least I don't rely on my parent's for everything like you do. I pay my own rent, I'll have you know."

Dallas snorts. Despite his usual unwillingness to do anything remotely related to work, today he is more than happy to help Austin shut up shop. "You wouldn't even be doing that if they hadn't kicked you out."

Dallas may have a point. At twenty four, it's become somewhat of an embarrassment to announce to his date, or on incredibly rare occasions girlfriends, that he still lives with his mom and dad, but it's the lifestyle he's grown accustomed to. That is, until recently. A little over a month ago his parents' had performed what Austin can only assume was a poorly executed intervention in which they had not so subtly informed him that they were 'concerned about his wellbeing' (translation: 'we think you're a loser') and that 'perhaps it was time for him to move out and learn to stand on his own two feet' (translation: 'we can't have sex while you're in the house and you're beginning to cramp our style, please leave').

So with the type of reluctance even the most stubborn of donkeys would find impressive, Austin had packed his entire life into a suitcase (for the second time in six years) and left behind his childhood home. His new place wasn't all bad. It was more than a little small and had a damp smell that constantly lingered in the air, but it was enough. With his parents' help he'd been able to furnish the apartment to the absolute bare minimum (he had hoped that if his mom had seen the type of squalor she was sending him off to live in then maybe she'd demand he return home immediately; she hadn't.) and make it seem almost 'homey'. The only issue he still faced was the increasingly irritating lack of wifi.

"Okay that's kind of true but -," Austin says as he flicks a switch behind the counter effectively cutting off the store's power supply. "Ah, shit!" He curses, his eyes catching sight of his mom's to-do list, her cursive words looping messily across the neon orange paper.

"What?" Dallas asks, tapping his foot impatiently over by the door. With little to do but watch Austin lock up, the brunette has quickly grown impatient, not that Austin blames him, it's Friday after all.

"My mom left me a list of things I was supposed to do," He waves the paper in Dallas' direction before hastily glancing down at the painfully long list of things he was supposed to do today. His parents are away for the weekend, maybe for a wedding but probably for a mattress lover's convention, he's got plenty of time to get the jobs done, so with that in mind he slips the paper into his pocket and rushes through the rest of his closing duties. "I'll just come in tomorrow and do them, no big deal."

Dallas roars with laughter at that, his entire body shaking with delight. "No way, whatever hopes you had of coming in tomorrow you better forget them now, the only thing you're gonna be doing tomorrow is sleeping off the hangover from hell! It's Friday night, man. You're coming out whether you like it or not. I'll drag you to the bar by your hair if I have to."

The man has a point, and his dad had just lectured him about growing up and acting his age (granted speech had come during the midst of an argument regarding Austin's notable collection of stuffed animals). "You don't have to drag me anywhere," Austin laughs, ignoring the images of his angry parents flashing in his head. "I'm in."

* * *

Vodka is not his friend, it never has been his friend, and yet Austin continues to drink it like its water. In hindsight, going out with Dallas had been a terrible idea and Austin's swears he's never going to do it again, and when he informs his friend of this as they struggle up the several flights of stairs leading to Austin's apartment, Dallas merely laughs like the bastard he is, patting him on the back and pushing him forward.

"You're a terrible friend," Austin groans. His head is swimming and he's pretty sure he's got someone else's vomit on his shoes. "Why do you make me do this?"

"I didn't make you do anything," Dallas argues, pulling Austin along a hallway which he can only assume leads to his home. "You're the idiot that challenged Kira to a drinking competition."

Austin groans at the memory. "Damn her Irish roots. Who fucking knew?"

"Everyone except you apparently. Have you got your key?" Dallas asks though he doesn't wait around for Austin's reply, immediately stuffing his hands into the blonde boy's jeans. His keys snag on a violently orange scrap of paper which Dallas disregards, jamming it into Austin's hands before turning his attention back to the door.

Once the two men are inside, Dallas doesn't hang around, only staying long enough to use Austin's bathroom and call a goodbye over his shoulder before heading back out again, no doubt to continue his night of drinking and partying. With Dallas gone Austin sinks into his couch, relishing in the silence that surrounds him. When he'd first moved in he'd assumed the feeling that had settled in his chest had been a result of missing his parents, the loneliness that had come with living truly alone for the first time in his life. Now as he sits unaccompanied on the couch he wonders if he's been lonely all along and that his parents' constant presence had just been masking that fact. He hates his drunk, deep self.

With bleary eyes, Austin looks around his tiny home, the living room and kitchen both rolled into one and two ancient wooden doors to his left concealing his even tinier room and bathroom. His eyes roam the almost barren room, most of his possessions still in boxes beside his bed, until they finally stop, landing on the crumpled paper clutched in his hand.

It's his mom's list, he reads it over again, slower than before because his alcohol addled brain is having a hard time keeping up. Altogether the tasks seem pretty simple and he's not sure why he didn't do them before; _clean backroom, check stock, replace last month's promotional posters_ … _IMPORTANT – DO NOT IGNORE AUSTIN! AUTHORISE AND ACCEPT STOCK RENEWAL FROM BLARMY – EMAIL EXPECTED FRIDAY AFTERNOON, REPLY WITH DRAFT EMAIL IN DRAFTS._

Fuck.

Austin's stomach drops to his feet and he can feel the bile rising in his throat, and unfortunately it has nothing to do with the amount of alcohol he's spent the night consuming. Rushing to his feet Austin frantically begins searching for his laptop. Maybe if he can send the email now he won't have screwed up whatever partnership deal his parents have set up with the Blarmy Company.

It's only as his PearBook comes to life, the light from the monitor illuminating his face and most of the room, does Austin remember the predicament he's in regarding his new apartment and the internet, or rather, lack of. Another frenzied search leads Austin to his phone, he knows he's got some data stored up maybe he can – it's dead. He pays thirty-five bucks a month for his phone and for what? For it to die when he absolutely needs it most.

It's nearly three o'clock in the morning and Austin is pulling out his hair, whatever pleasant buzz the alcohol had left running through his veins is long gone and he's about ready to curl up into a ball and die. Before he has chance to do this however, his laptop chimes informing him of its failure to connect to an available internet source before opening a window displaying a list of potential networks in the building.

Though he already knows the answer Austin chances a look anyway. There are no available networks in the building, or rather, there is one but it's password protected and shining up at him like a beacon in the darkness that is his life; _YELL PENIS FOR PASSWORD._

Though massively inappropriate (and totally hilarious) the aforementioned network is the strongest in the building according to his laptop, its signal reaching all three access bars. There's every chance that the only thing screaming penis is going to do is piss off the other tenants in his building, but Austin figures he'd rather face some grouchy neighbours tomorrow morning than his disappointed and supremely angry parents Monday.

With one final refresh of the page, confirming that there is only one available network, Austin opens his mouth and yells as loudly as his voice will allow. "PENIS."


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Just wanted to say a massive thank you to those of you for reading and also to those of you who have taken the time to review, follow and/or favourite, it really means a lot to me. I'm really glad you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope you enjoy this one too.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Chapter Two

Nothing. Absolutely nothing is what follows Austin's outburst and maybe he should have expected that, it is three in the fucking morning after all. This is what he gets though for being such a lazy idiot, isn't it? He's hopeless, completely and utterly hopeless; Ally had known that, his new neighbours now know that, and whatever doubts his mom and dad had regarding his capabilities as a fully functioning member of society will be confirmed for them Monday morning. He might actually hate himself.

It's only as Austin is rolling around on the surprisingly grungy carpet whilst simultaneously wailing and pulling desperately at his hair does his beacon of hope relight itself, this time in the form of a voice. The words are muffled by layers of drywall but Austin knows he heard them. "DID YOU SAY PENIS?"

Scrambling to his feet Austin throws himself in the direction of the voice, flying down the miniscule hallway that leads towards his bedroom. He stops just short of the wall, staring up at it like it holds all the secrets of the universe. With his heart pounding heavily in his chest, adrenaline and hope running through his veins, Austin beats his hands against the wall as loudly as he possibly can.

"PENIS! PENIS! PENIS!" He cries, banging his hands as hard as the wall will allow without totally giving way. "C'MON! PENIS!" He's creating such a ruckus that he almost misses the sound of someone shuffling around the apartment on the other side.

On slightly wobbly legs (because the hands of fate have intervened to save his ass and he's never been so grateful in his life) Austin hurries towards his front door, ripping it open just as the person outside has begun knocking.

"Penis?" Austin breathes up at his new neighbour in sheer bewilderment for fate has not delivered him a busty blonde with the wifi password written across her chest (the pornography industry has let him down yet again; reality fucking sucks), but instead has deposited a human giraffe clad in plaid pyjamas and moose slippers.

"Penis," The man affirms, offering Austin what might actually be the biggest smile in all of history. "May I come in?" The man doesn't wait for an answer, simply takes Austin's astounded silence as a 'yes' before brushing past him and into the living room.

Austin shuffles dumbfounded after the man, noting the ease at which the stranger moves about the room, despite the fact that the two have yet to exchange more than a handful of words. For all this guy knows Austin could be a serial killer looking to prey on his latest victim, and yet the man seems totally unperturbed by this as he sinks down onto the couch, placing Austin's computer onto his lap.

"Oh," Austin says taken aback. When he'd invited the stranger in he'd expected the man to just tell him the password, not make himself at home right there on his couch (he's actually put his feet up on the cardboard box Austin's been using as a table). "I thought you might just… right, you're going to put the password in, yeah?"

His neighbour, who has been typing furiously while Austin had stood awkwardly at the doorway, pauses to look up at him, his eyes are surprisingly bright for three in the morning. "Yeah… unless that wasn't what you wanted me to do? I just figured you were following the instruction on the available network tab, but maybe you just have a phallic obsession… I had a roommate like that once, he was alright though once you got past all the dick talk."

Austin thinks he's supposed to laugh but he's too dismayed to do so. Instead he finds himself continuing to gawk at the stranger settled on his couch, crooked flower crown perched atop a mess of fiery orange hair and baby blue eyes that make even the summer skies seem dull.

"What the fuck are you?" Austin mutters, mostly to himself but the man appears to have bat like senses for he halts his ex-roommate horror stories, juggles the laptop into one hand and moves to shake Austin's own hand with the other.

"Dez," The man says, pumping Austin's hand with a level of enthusiasm Austin struggles to comprehend. "Sorry, thought I'd introduced myself already, I guess not. Didn't mean to be rude, I promise. I'm a bit tired though and I tend to be forgetful when I'm tired."

"Won't stop you from remembering you're the wifi password though, right?" Austin asks, because really that's all the man is here for anyway. He leads Dez back to the sofa, plopping down in the space beside him. His body is heavy with sleep but he needs to reply to that email, preferably yesterday but he supposes now will do. "M'Austin by the way."

"Austin," Dez repeats before shooting the man in question yet another one thousand watt grin. "I've never met an Austin before."

He's struggling to keep his eyes open, his mother's list still clutched firmly in his hand, but Austin somehow finds it in him to reply. Unfortunately the sleepiness, and whatever is left of the alcohol (fucking Dallas), makes him respond in a way that can only be described as forward. "You're not a serial killer are you?"

Dez snorts with laughter; he sounds a lot like a goose, Austin thinks. "I think if I were I would have murdered you by now, don't you?"

Austin shrugs. "Maybe, maybe not. I don't know much about serial killers. Just didn't want my life to come to an end at the hands of a guy wearing moose slippers and a crown made of daisies." And even though he should probably respect this guy's boundaries, Austin goes ahead and snatches the crown from his head, twirling it around his fingers several times before placing it upon his own blonde locks. "How do I look?"

"Dashing," Dez responds with a giggle, evidently unruffled by tipsy Austin's lack of respect for personal space. "And they're peonies, not daisies."

Austin shrugs. "Tomayto, tomahto."

Dez doesn't respond, merely returns to typing away on Austin's laptop. He knows he's no expert but Austin's fairly certain that filling in the wifi password shouldn't take more than a few seconds, nor should it involve this much typing. However, beyond the oddly melodic sound of Dez's tapping, there's only silence to be heard throughout the apartment, and it's almost enough to lull him to sleep. The sharp corners of the card in his hand serve as a reminder to keep his eyes open and his mind alert. He needs to send that email.

"Not that I'm not totally grateful that you're allowing me to steal your internet but I kind of really need to reply to an email, so I was just wondering how much longer you were gonna be?" Austin inquires in a tone that he hopes isn't as brash as he knows it probably is. The alcohol makes him want to be happy, his brain is making him sleepy, his delight at having company in his otherwise desolate home is encouraging him to make his neighbour laugh some more, but ultimately the card in his hand wins; he's becoming tetchy instead, on edge because he needs to prove to his parents that he isn't a complete screw-up.

"Oh! Sorry!" Dez sounds genuinely apologetic, crystalline eyes alight with surprise. "I just… I noticed that you didn't have a very good anti-virus so I figured I'd do something about that for you, you know so you don't send your laptop to an early grave with all that porn you download." Austin finds himself blushing furiously at Dez's words; what kind of person checks out someone else's download history? Noticing Austin's violently red cheeks Dez hurries out, "Not that I think that's weird or anything. In fact it's a perfectly healthy activity to engage in and –"

"I get it," Austin grunts out, taking his PearBook from Dez's notably large hands and hastily movie to open his internet browser (he also makes a mental note to delete his download folder). "Thanks for the password, and the anti-virus," He tacks on as an afterthought.

"No problem," Dez takes no notice of Austin's change of mood, or if he does he doesn't care. Instead of bidding his neighbour a goodnight and graciously leaving like any other person would, Dez remains seated at Austin's side, glancing around the room with curious eyes.

"You can leave now," Austin tells him, a frustrated bite to his tone. His fingers aren't moving as fast as he needs them to, this email needs to be sent NOW.

Dez, who's looking around the room with a similar sense of wonderment to that of a child, shakes his head. "You've got my crown. I can't leave without it."

Austin doesn't think as he pulls the crown off of his head and tosses it carelessly in Dez's general direction. He doesn't take his eyes of the computer screen, watching anxiously as Zaplook takes it's time to send the email. He does, however, hear the flower crown tumble to the floor.

As his computer sounds its familiar chime, allowing him to breathe with the knowledge his email has been sent, Austin looks up, a sheepish look in his eye. "I didn't mean for it to fall on the floor."

Dez waves him off with an airy hand as he bends to retrieve the crown. It's even more lopsided now and one of the flowers has dropped off but Dez returns it to its rightful spot upon his head nonetheless. Austin can't help but think he's weird.

"How do I look?" Dez asks, a smile playing in the corner of his lips.

And because he knows he's been rude, Austin replies with his own conciliatory smirk. "Dashing."

Dez cackles out a laugh, his guffaw ricocheting off of the peeling walls of the tiny room. "Good. I don't want my viewers thinking I'm anything short of debonair," He says, climbing to his feet and heading towards the door. "G'night Penis Pal."

He's gone before Austin can respond in kind, giving the blonde not chance to inquire further about his 'viewers', or why he gave him free anti-virus software, or why he's up at three o'clock in the morning waiting for someone to steal his wifi, or more importantly, what the fuck a 'penis pal' is.

* * *

Monday comes around far too quickly for Austin's liking. He'd spent Saturday in bed doing exactly what Dallas had predicted, nursing a hangover, and Sunday had been spent lounging on the couch and exchanging dirty text messages with the checkout girl from Mercedes Lenz. He hasn't been on his laptop though, no matter how much he'd wanted to spend Sunday night kicking ass at World of Warlords.

You see, to begin with he'd really appreciated Dez's kind gesture of installing free anti-virus software onto his computer, unfortunately one sour dream now had him convinced Dez was in fact a serial killer, regardless of what he'd said, and was now using the software to spy on him and plot his ultimate demise. Austin knows it's stupid, knows Dallas would probably spend the next month taunting him over his amateur dramatics but he can't help it, he's convinced.

So instead he avoids his laptop like it's the latest carrier of plague and occupies his time with exchanging nudes with Felicia (he wonders if he'll get free shades out of this) and unpacking some more of his boxes. Most of the cardboard creations are crammed with a mixture of clothes and DVDs, so it's not difficult to immerse himself with the activity in the hour he has before he has to leave for work.

Stupidly Austin doesn't check the writing on the next box he chooses, assuming the weight of it is a result of his poor packing capabilities and so when he opens it he expects to find his winter coats. Its contents are far less pleasant; books from his high school years, his varsity letterman jacket, an assortment of CDs that he knows without checking are his various demos, and finally, Ally's book.

His chest aches as he settles on the floor beside his bed, ancient journal in hand. He wants to open it but he's not sure he can put himself through that kind of torture again, even if he probably deserves it. Somewhere in the room, in a box much bigger than the last, is his guitar, he figures if he wants to add to the pain that's currently eating at him he should haul that out too.

He's had his guitar years, it's the oldest friend he has or at least it used to be. He can't remember the last time he touched it, let alone used it, it's been locked away for years now, a relic of his past. It carries just as much heartache as the book he holds in his hands.

He knows it's not going to end well, knows he's probably going to end up on the shower floor curled up in the foetal position, but he opens the book anyway. He flicks through it carefully, scared timeworn pages will crumble to dust if he moves too fast. His fingers are gentle in their motions, light to the touch and wary. Every turn of the page is like a bullet to his chest.

God does his miss her.

He traces his fingers across the loopy curves of her writing, years of calligraphy camp having blessed her with enviable penmanship. Of course there are pages that are filled with his own handwriting, hurried lyrics and misspelt words, but they don't resonate with him as much as Ally's do. Somehow, even though it's been years since he's seen her, she still holds the key to his heart, and as he acknowledges this he hates himself a little bit more for throwing hers away.

Somewhere inside the apartment, probably stuffed between the cushions of the couch, his phone is blasting its obnoxious ringtone. He knows without looking that it's his mom, knows that's she's worrying about his whereabouts and why he's not at work, knows that if he doesn't answer his dad will call next, but he can't find it within himself to care.

Instead of acting as the responsible adult his parents are so desperate for him to be, Austin folds himself into a ball on the floor, Ally's book hugged close to his chest. He wonders when he became this person, when he stopped caring about, well, everything. He hates his job, he hates his apartment, and even though Dallas is his best friend he doesn't even think he has the heart for him anymore, that maybe spending time with him has become a chore too.

He looks to Ally's book for answers but as usual the only thing it provides him with is tears. Nothing matters, not now and nor will it ever. He resigns himself to lying on the floor and staring blankly up at the ceiling. He knows he should haul himself up and off to work but he can't, so instead he just lies there, willing his world to kick start again, to find the lust for life he's been missing since he was eighteen and stupid.

Across the room a stack of haphazardly piled boxes collapse, their contents spilling out onto the floor, landing just short of Austin's face. He turns to see his guitar lying in the empty space beside him. He supposes that's his answer; it sounds a lot like fate laughing at him.


	4. Chapter 3

**As always you guys are wonderful and the responses I received for the last chapter were incredible! Hopefully you'll like this one just as much. Let me know in a review (or a tweet) what you think and what you want to happen next!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Chapter Three

If he had to pick his favourite part of his new apartment, not that there's much of it to choose from, Austin would pick the shower. Granted, it does have the tendency to jump between the hot and cold settings of its own accord at random intervals but that aside the water pressure is perfect and the bathroom steams up just enough that he doesn't have to worry about freezing to death when he eventually climbs out. It is for this reason (that and he still hasn't set up his TV) that Austin finds himself spending an increasing amount of time locked inside his tiny, but wonderful, shower cubicle.

He likes the shower, likes the pruney feel of his skin once he steps into his sweats after an hour or two of drowning himself under the downpour of water, likes pretending that even the smallest amount of soap can wash away his pain as easily as it removes the grime on his skin; it can't but he likes to hope.

He finds his showers take place mostly late at night when the rest of the building is undoubtedly asleep and only the stars above are around to judge him. He knows he's being stupid, can hear the voice in his head (it sounds a lot like Dallas) mocking him for spending his nights hidden away in his bathroom but what else is he supposed to do? Showering soothes him, keeps him away from that godforsaken book that lies tucked between his mattress and his pillows. The occasional burst of cold water keeps him awake and prevents him from falling asleep against the cool tile walls; he's thankful for that, glad to put off going to bed because he no longer wants to wake up in the morning and go through the same old shit all over again.

He blames his parents for this. He can't help but feel that if they hadn't forced him out of his home then he wouldn't be stuck in this never ending pit of despair. With his parents around Austin had an ever present distraction from the dull aching feeling in his chest. He never had time to sit around and lament over the woes of life because his mother, or rather 'smother', was always there with chores or errands for him to run.

Hell, even his friendship was Dallas was better when he still lived with his parents. Dallas would show up in the evening after work, they'd play video games in his bedroom until one or both of them declared it late enough to go out and then they'd spend the night getting as shitfaced as possible. Now Dallas avoids his apartment because he's convinced he's gonna get mugged on the streets below; his new neighbourhood isn't as bad as Dallas likes to make it out to be.

It's only as Austin is applying yet another round of honey scented shampoo to his hair, being extra careful not to get any in his eyes (that shit stings), does he concede that perhaps the problem isn't with Dallas being dramatic or with his parents being unreasonable, maybe it's with the book he hasn't stopped reading in over a week. He knows he should have just tossed it back in the box the second he'd found it, but he can't, there's something almost pleasurable about the pain he gets from rereading Ally's words.

Ally. Ally is a problem in her own right. He hasn't spoken to her since that fateful day six years ago but he knows that there's yet to be a day where she hasn't crossed his mind. What's worse is that the more time that goes on the more he seems to see her everywhere he goes. At first Austin had figured it was because he missed her, seeing her in the faces of strangers wasn't all that weird, it happened all the time in movies. It was only after he started hearing her name on the radio or seeing her grin back at him from the covers of magazines did he begin to think he might be in trouble.

Much to his relief, Austin was not insane. However, he was apparently an even bigger loser than he had at first assumed. After graduation he had been the one to abandon college and flee to California, he had also been the one to return to Miami after less than four months with his tail between his legs and not a dollar to his name. Ally on the other hand had seemingly had the time of her life in college, or at least that was the impression Austin had gotten from her MyFace profile, and had gone on to achieve Austin's dream.

So whilst Austin spends his days working nine till five at his parents' mattress store, Ally sells number one records and performs for crowds of thousands. Evidently her stage fright is a thing of the past. He hears her songs on the radio often, finds himself singing along as he bustles around the store during work. He owns deluxe copies of all three of her albums, and even though he feels like an idiot for doing so, he's combed through the lyrics of each of her songs for even the slightest hint that one of them could be for him. They aren't and he should know better.

It's as he's running his fingers through his hair, massaging creamy conditioner into his scalp, that Austin decides he's probably a masochist. He's grown to like the hurt that comes with knowing he's lost the love of his life and so he decides he's got nothing to lose by belting out Ally's latest single right there under the steady stream of water. As a teenager the showerhead had been his biggest fan, after Ally and his mom of course, and the bathroom had always provided the best acoustics.

" _Can't forget I'm never alone here, so put your arms around me, make me feel like I've been found_ ," Austin croons into an empty bottle of shower gel. The song fills him with a familiar warmth inside, the same warmth he gets at Christmas or when he's eating his grandma's special pancakes, the same warmth he used to get when Ally would press her lips to his. It's nice.

Austin's just about to throw himself into another rendition of the song when a high pitched wail interrupts him. The sound is louder than it is irritating and Austin nearly chooses to ignore it but then the water shuts off leaving him to reluctantly end his private performance.

It's only as he's pulling on his pyjama pants in the not-so comfort of his bedroom does the acrid smell of smoke attack his nostrils. Panicking Austin forgoes a shirt, stopping only to grab Ally's book before he charges out of the apartment and out into the main hall.

The main stairs are a flurry with people shuffling out of their homes, arms folded over their chests, all grumbling in annoyance over the rude awakening. Noting their lack of concern for the lives, Austin suddenly feels like an idiot for not stopping to at least put on shoes and he grimaces in displeasure as his bare feet touch the gravely ground of the parking lot outside.

The inhabitants of Bushwell Plaza huddle together in groups of varying sizes. From where he stands on the outskirts of the fray, nearest the Miami Fire Department truck, Austin silently regrets not stopping to befriend one of his, apparently many, neighbours when he'd first moved in. Maybe then he wouldn't feel like such an outcast standing by himself. He briefly debates going over and introducing himself to someone, maybe the lady struggling to juggle a two year old on her hip. He's just about to move from his spot beside the fire truck when he waltzes straight into a familiar looking face.

"Dez," Austin squeaks with surprise. He hasn't seen the man since he'd broken his flower crown and been labelled a 'Penis Pal', as a result he's feeling more than a little awkward. "Hi."

Dez grins down at him, smile ripping across his cheeks and threatening to split his face in two. "Austin! How are you? Cold, obviously." Dez nods down at Austin's chest and the blonde merely stares back at him in confusion until realisation hits him; the chilly night air has been licking furiously at his skin and his nipples are standing pink and erect for all the world to see.

"Fuck," Austin blushes furiously, now painfully aware of just how hard his nipples are. He tries to cover them with his hands, hugging Ally's journal to his chest, but all he accomplishes is managing to look like an underage school girl. His 'lesbian haircut' (Dallas has been taunting him for weeks) probably doesn't help the image.

Dez merely giggles in response as he runs a hand through his feathery ginger fringe. Like Austin he's obviously been caught off-guard by the alarm, he's got a fluffy towel wrapped tight around his waist and a bulky green sweater covering his chest. Austin almost asks if he can borrow it (its damn cold out tonight).

"How've you been?" Austin asks conversationally, relieved that he no longer has to stand alone like a loser. There's a small part of him, the part that lives to hate, that wants to push Dez away but there's a bigger part of him that craves the taller boy's company, craves company in general.

"I've been better," Dez shrugs, nodding his head in the direction of the gang of fireman standing several feet away. The men are discussing the blaze inside; ' _the guy was in bed - wasn't too bad though, small oven fire-'_

Austin snorts at the fireman's words. "What a moron, right? Who goes to bed in the middle of cooking something? Even I know not to do that and I burn water!" It's only when Dez doesn't reply, instead standing rooted to the spot, cheeks flushing pink, does Austin catch on, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline in horror. "That was you?! You're the idiot that fell asleep while cooking?" Dez shrugs, refusing to meet Austin's eyes. "Dude! I'm about to freeze to death out here all because you decided you wanted to burn to death in there?"

"I didn't want to burn to death," Dez mumbles, his gaze focused on the ground, shoes kicking at the blacktop; he's wearing mismatched sneakers, Austin notes, they might be a metaphor for Dez himself. "I just got distracted, that's all."

"Well your 'distraction' nearly got us all killed!" Austin hisses though he's not entirely sure why he's getting so worked up over this. He used to be a laidback guy, used to leave all the worrying and unnecessary panicking to Ally. Maybe in her absence he's trying to become her, to fill the void she'd left behind. Maybe he's spending far too much time reading his mom's romance novels in the storage cupboard during work.

"I'm sorry, okay!" And the way Dez's eyebrows knot together in remorse has Austin almost rushing to apologise himself. How can he not regret his harsh tones when the man in front of him looks like someone's just kicked his puppy?

Before either boy can continue the conversation there is a clamour of people around them racing towards the building's main entrance in a fight to get back to bed fastest. Neither Austin nor Dez move, apparently in a silent agreement that slumber is not worth the struggle, they'll move when the chances of getting shoved out of the way are smaller.

As Austin goes say sorry he is interrupted once more, though this time it is by one person and not by the many that actually appear to be punching each other on their way in the door. The interrupter himself is shorter than both Dez and Austin, barely reaching either of their shoulders. His hair is a mess of chocolate curls and he's wearing even less clothes than Austin.

"Are you coming back up?" The man says, words directed at Dez as he blatantly ignores Austin's existence. "Or shall I meet you up there?" He's trailing one long, bony finger over Dez's sharp features, tracing the freckles dusted across his cheeks.

"I'll be up in five," Dez replies, seemingly unbothered by the man's need to touch. The man hums, happy with his answer. He smacks a quick kiss to Dez's cheek, offers Austin a glare in both greeting and goodbye, before swaggering back towards the building, hips sashaying wildly as he goes. Then the penny drops.

" _That_ is what distracted you?" Austin asks, his voice shrill with shock. Obviously he doesn't blame Dez for getting distracted, sex is sex after all, and if anything Austin is a little envious; he can't remember the last time he got off with anyone other than his own hand. Nevertheless someone needs to lecture some sense into the man. "You could have killed us all! How could you be so stupid?!" Even as the words are leaving his mouth he regrets them, mostly because he knows he doesn't sound like himself. He sounds like his dad and that's not an impression he wants to leave his neighbour with.

"Okay! I get it! I'm sorry, alright?" Dez sounds genuinely sorry. "But you can hardly scold me for this when you nearly woke up the entire building yourself just last week, Penis Pal." He smirks and Austin doesn't know whether to glare or smile, he settles on a grimace.

"That's entirely different," He argues, he's about one second away from pouting and placing his hands on his hips. This needs to stop, now. He can already hear Dallas' teasing words in his head. "I was drunk, and besides, it's not like my behaviour would have killed anybody."

"Mine didn't kill anybody either," Dez points out, his smirk has transformed into a full blown smile now. "But I appreciate the chiding, I'll try not to leave the oven on next time I'm balls deep."

Austin splutters. He's used to Dallas being upfront about his conquests, even if he's sure half of them are total bullshit (no mere mortal gets involved in that many orgies), but Dez is essentially a totally stranger so he can't comprehend the man's openness at all.

"I think that's enough lecturing for one night though, yeah? I've been punished enough as it is. I smashed my phone screen this afternoon and though the fire department came tonight I did not. C'mon, I'll walk you inside," Dez places a hand on the small of Austin's back as he guides him towards the building. Despite having been stood in the cold for quite some time his hand is surprisingly warm, it provides a sharp contrast to the practically icy chill that had settled on Austin's skin.

They're halfway up the stairs when Dez speaks again, and this time Austin's jaw nearly unhinges itself in alarm. "You're a really good singer, by the way."

"What?" Austin manages to struggle out. He's confused. Confused and tired (his recent reluctance to sleep has left him beyond exhausted, not that he'll admit it).

"Your voice?" Dez says slowly as though Austin has been dropped on his head and is now too stupid to understand English. "It's good. Very good actually."

The teenager within him wants to scoff out an 'obviously'. "How do you know?" It's been a while since Austin has been genuinely scared but he can feel his heart picking up pace within his chest because this honestly doesn't make any sense. He hasn't performed for anyone in years, not since California. Is there a video of him belting his heart out floating around online somewhere? Is Dez someone he went to high school with and has merely repressed from his memories?

He's about ready to have a full blown panic attack right there on the stairs when Dez replies. "The walls in this place are paper thin. In fact if I pushed you hard enough right now you'd probably fall through that wall and land in the apartment on the other side." This is doing nothing for his racing heart. "Anyway, I heard you singing earlier while Dalton and I were… hanging out, and you're really good. I don't know if you –"

Whatever Dez had been about to say is lost as Austin's brain translates the true meaning of 'hanging out'. "You used me as your sex soundtrack?!"

Dez blinks in surprise, cerulean eyes wide with dismay. "That's what you took from all of that? It's not my fault you happened to start singing whilst Dalton and I were –"

"Fucking. You fucked to my voice," Suddenly he can't get the image of Dez and Dalton (what kind of name is that anyway?) getting it on as he sings Ally's songs in the background. He doesn't know whether to feel flattered or violated.

"It's not like I jacked him off to the beat or anything," Dez says as they slowly begin climbing the stairs. "We were already halfway there when you started. I just thought you might like to know that you're good."

Austin knows he should probably say thank you, it's the polite thing to do, but he doesn't know how comfortable he is with Dez knowing what he sounds like, knowing who he is when he is at his most vulnerable. He doesn't need someone telling him he's 'good' again, the last person who did used him and left him with nothing. Music used to be his outlet, and tonight Dez has reminded him of exactly why it isn't anymore.

"I was actually wondering," Dez says as they arrive at their floor, Dez's door on the left and Austin's on the right. "I've got this ViewTube channel, and if you wanted maybe you'd like to be on it? Like my guest? I think you're really talented, like Ed Sheeran or Nick Jonas, and I think my viewers would be really impressed by you –" As Dez goes off on his spiel about Austin's 'incredible talent' and something about 'viewers' and 'fame', Austin finds himself reeling with memories of his past naiveties. This is how it started last time, he won't let it happen again.

With his heart beating a mile a minute in his chest, the voice in his head screaming obscenities, and Dez looking at him with so much hope and happiness, Austin does the only thing he knows how. He runs. He spins on his heel, throws himself into his apartment without even a goodbye in his neighbour's direction.

With the door slammed shut behind him, Austin sinks down to the floor, hugs his knees against his chest and presses Ally's book as closely to his heart as the laws of nature will allow. He doesn't know what's happening to him, doesn't recognise the person he's become, but what he does know is that if only for a second, Dez's words had relit a fire inside of him, a fire he almost wishes hadn't burnt out.


	5. Chapter 4

**Firstly, I am so sorry that this chapter is so late. A lot like Austin in this story I've had a hard time finding the motivation to do anything but nevertheless I feel accomplished in that I completed this updated, so there's that :) Secondly, I'm really grateful to all of you that are reading, reviewing, favourting, following, etc. it means a great deal to me.**

 **As always, let me know in a review (or a tweet) what you thought of this chapter and what you'd like to happen next!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Chapter Four

It takes several days for Austin to stand comfortably under the shower head, several days of greasy hair and sweaty skin, endless concerned glances from his mom who's positive he's not looking after himself (she's not wrong), but he figures it's worth it. He tries to avoid thinking about Dez's words but it's hard to forget when they've been ringing in his ears for days, ricocheting off of every corner of his mind. Eventually even he grows tired of his stench.

His hands tremble as he reaches for the faucet, his heart pounding violently in his chest as he fights to regulate his breath. The shower flicks on, scalding hot water raining down on him; he likes it. He knows he hasn't been looking his best, knows that even Dallas can tell the dark circles under his eyes have nothing to do with late night gaming sessions, but there's nothing he can do about it. There's nothing he wants to do about it. He just wants – well, he doesn't know what he wants. Ally would know, he thinks, Ally always knew.

Sighing Austin rushes through the remainder of his shower, scrubbing harder than necessary at his skin, leaving behind angry red blotches in his wake. It's the ass crack of dawn and a month ago Austin would have fallen over in hysterical laughter at the mere mention of him working the early shift at the store, and yet here he is pulling on his red work polo at six on a Wednesday morning; he's not even sure he has the energy to care, much less complain.

His plan is fairly simple. Dez is a night owl, every interaction Austin has had with the man has been at night, every sound that comes from his side of their shared wall happens sometime between sundown and sunrise so Austin figures the best course of action is to get what he can done while Dez sleeps and then sleep (or at least try to) whilst the other man is awake. It's fool proof.

With one last glance around his apartment to make sure he's got everything he needs for the day ahead (cell phone, wallet, keys, and umbrella) Austin hurries out of his apartment and into the early morning rain. It's been a surprisingly wet month for Miami.

As a teenager Austin had loathed being awake any time before noon, the only thing he had hated more was the sound of silence. As an adult, and particularly in the last week, Austin thinks he's learnt to appreciate them both a little more. One of the benefits, perhaps the only benefit, of being up before most of the city, is that there is a startling lack of people around. At a normal hour Austin's street is usually bustling with traffic and people meandering along the sidewalk, at 6am it's just him and the occasional passing car; he loves it.

Even better is the lack of surrounding noise, it's just him and his myPod, and it's perfect. There are no honking horns to distract him from Justin Timberlake's dulcet tones as the musical talent's songs blast through his headphones, and even better there is no one around to judge him as he hums along to JT's latest single as he strolls towards the bus stop.

He's feeling a little better after his shower, and the lack of anybody to look at him, pity in their stare, this morning has cheered him up considerably. The rain is pelting heavily against his flimsy black umbrella but he doesn't mind, he finds he quite enjoys the rain and he's almost tempted to forget his tiny shelter entirely so that the water can soak him completely. Instead he does the adult thing and grips the plastic handle tightly before staring resolutely at the puddle forming at his feet, allowing himself to get lost in the music once more.

The problem with Austin and music is that the harder he tries to deny his love for it the more the music seems to affect him. He doesn't want his feet to tap out a beat against the sidewalk, doesn't want his fingers to itch with an unforgettable need to strum out a chord, and he definitely doesn't his innocent humming to transpose into bus stop karaoke, which is inevitably what happens.

With his eyes closed and Justin Timberlake crooning in his ear, Austin is incapable of stopping himself. The graffiti marked bus stop disappears along with the rain and the surrounding complexes until all that's left is Austin and his myPod. His lungs expand and his voice box vibrates with delight as he belts out an impressive high note, in another world the crowds would go wild as he sings to them, Ally standing in the wings proud smile spread across her face, hands clapping rapidly as – clapping. Why can he hear clapping?

Much like the last time he'd allowed himself to break into song, Austin is forced to cut himself off, mouth closing abruptly as his eyes spring open in horror. To his dismay, and great disappointment, he is not stood before an audience of thousands and Ally is not the one clapping with pride. He is in fact still stood at a dirty bus stop, shoes saturated with water, and a human giraffe is beaming at him in awe.

"Dez!" Austin yelps, voice more shrill than he would have liked. Dallas's teasing voice begins to creep its way to the forefront of Austin's mind.

Dez's grin lessens, becoming somewhat sheepish though his eyes are still alight with glee. "I was hoping I would bump into you."

Austin frowns. "Wait, are you stalking me?" He'd known from the start that the man was a psycho, he'd just been wrong about what brand; stalker not murderer (yet).

Dez bursts into loud laughter, his hands immediately flying up to cover his mouth as if to keep the embarrassing sound in. His cheeks have tinged a pale pink by the time he sobers up enough to speak. "No! I just… I felt bad after the last time I saw you. I didn't mean to freak you out, ya know? I wasn't lying when I said I thought you were talented, and now I know it's not just an opinion, it's a fact."

Now it's Austin's turn to blush. He clasps his hand tighter around the handle of his umbrella, he doesn't want to feel flattered by Dez's compliment, he's not allowed to feel flattered. This is how it starts, and he _won't_ let it happen again.

The realisation hits Austin hard and his heart clenches in his chest, an unbearable sadness he'd hoped to have grown used to by now. He's no longer enjoying the early morning, wishing more than anything that he could sprint back to his apartment and spend the day cowering under his bedsheets.

"Though I just thought you'd like to know that your Ed Sheeran impression? Way off," There's mirth in Dez's words and a playful smirk playing on his lips. There are droplets of water pouring down his face, plastering his fringe to his forehead and irritating his eyes; he looks like he's drowning and Austin feels jealous.

Scoffing Austin retorts, "That wasn't Ed Sheeran, it was Justin Timberlake, also known as the greatest artist of our generation." Somewhere inside him he should know how to play the part, to act like the Austin everyone had loved back in high school. He wonders that if he tries hard enough, that if he really works at it, that maybe he'll forget he's playing a role at all. That he can be himself again and that the ache in his chest will be nothing more than a memory.

Dez gasps in mock horror. "How dare you! I'll have you know that the greatest artist of our generation is in fact Michael Bublé and I won't have anyone say otherwise." He places his hands over his ears and turns his body away from Austin. His neighbour is childish as hell but Austin can't help the tiny twitch of amusement that tugs at his lips.

"Well now I know you're lying," Austin smirks, stepping towards Dez and holding his umbrella up over them both. If Austin doesn't get to drown today then neither does Dez.

Dez turns to face Austin, his hands falling from his ears in bewilderment as he appears to forget his joke. The playful pout that had just seconds ago been gracing his lips has made way for a softer expression. It's insufferably fond for a man he's known for less than a month. "Thank you."

Austin shrugs, choosing not to make something out of nothing, especially when there are more important things to be discussing, such as Dez's questionable taste in music. "Michael Bublé, huh? Why not just be a fan of Frank Sinatra instead? Surely that would be easier on your ears than listening to a wannabee who is stuck in the 1960s?"

Dez stares at him, obviously affronted but his eyes still glint with amusement. Austin doesn't understand how someone who gets so little sleep (He knows Dez was up late last night with Dalton; could hear him laughing through the wall) can find it in himself to be so damn content all the time. He's beginning to think Dez isn't human, which in all honesty would explain a lot.

"How can you say that?" Dez hisses, incredulous at Austin's beliefs. "Aside from the fact that his voice is the equivalent of having your hair stroked by a friendly bear whilst taking a dip in a pool of chocolate, the man is Canadian! That in itself should be enough to cement the opinion that Michael Bublé is the greatest human to ever live."

Despite the fact that the voice in his head is still yelling at him to hightail it home, Austin finds himself laughing along with Dez. "He's Canadian. That's the reason you think he's so freakin' awesome?"

Dez nods, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Us Canadian's have to stick together, it's practically law."

"I guess that explains your moose slippers."

"Pretty sure you're stereotyping. Just because I'm Canadian, doesn't mean I have to like moose. The two aren't mutually exclusive."

"But you have to like Michael Bublé because you're Canadian?"

Dez shrugs. He's radiating the kind of warmth Austin just wants to wrap himself in, there's a pang of envy in his chest as he realises he'll probably never emit that kind of energy himself. Ally gave him his warmth, and she took it away that day in the bathroom. He wants to drown again.

His change in mood doesn't go unnoticed by Dez. The taller boy looks down at him with curious eyes, teeth tugging at his pink lips as he struggles with an inner debate; Austin wonders if he'll say anything. He hopes not.

Unfortunately Austin's silent pleas go unanswered and Dez speaks once more. "Do you want to come over tonight? Like to hang out, or something?"

Austin stares at him, taken aback by the invitation. "What?"

"Only if you want to," Dez assures him. His hand hovers mid-air as though he has briefly considered placing it on Austin's shoulder before quickly changing his mind. "Might be fun. We could eat, watch a movie, you could tell me why you have a subscription to Marsupial Monthly, and –"

"Wait, what? How do you know –" Austin trails off. Dallas' voice starts again in his head, teasing him over his lame magazine subscription, and for sharing an umbrella with someone who is obviously a psycho (how else would he know about Marsupial Monthly? Why else would someone love Michael Bublé?).

"Oh right, I forgot to tell you. Some of your mail ended up in my box. It's addressed to you only the apartment number is wrong, so it's coming to me. I tried to deliver it to you a couple of days ago but you weren't in."

Austin blushes profusely. He had been in, he just hadn't had it in him to crawl out of the pit also known as his bed. That hadn't been a particularly good day. "Sorry."

Dez waves him off with an airy hand. "Don't worry about it. I'll drop it off later, if you want? Or you could pick it up when you come over to hang out?" His tone is hopeful.

"It'd be great if you could drop it off," Austin says, aiming to let Dez down easily. He's not here to make friends. He has a hard enough time keeping up with Dallas. Dez is his neighbour, _just_ his neighbour.

Dez's shoulders drop. The optimistic look he'd been sporting vanishes, leaving behind sad puppy eyes and a disappointed smile. "Yeah, sure. That's fine." Austin thinks that means their conversation is over. He's wrong. "I just – I think you're a cool guy and I'd like for us to be friends, ya know?" The sentence alone might have been enough to tug at Austin's heartstrings, unfortunately Dez continues. "After hearing you sing the other night, and again this morning, I know that you're super talented and it astounds me that you aren't a professional singer or whatever. I looked you up online and there's nothing. So that's when I got this idea. I have a ViewTube channel and I think my viewers would love to hear you perform. It would be great exposure for you and for my channel and –"

Austin steps away from the other man. He misses Dez's warmth when he does but he doesn't dwell on it, anger is beginning to pump through his veins. "I appreciate the offer Dez, but no thanks." That's just it, isn't it? Austin isn't good enough for someone to genuinely want to be friends with him, everyone always wants something. Everyone always takes advantage. He wasn't good enough for Ally when he tried to be his own person. He wasn't good enough for California. Even Dallas uses him to pick up chicks. And now Dez.

"Look, we could make a music video, a cinematic masterpiece," The redhead enthuses, taking a step towards Austin.

"No," Austin says firmly. "I have stage fright." Technically he does. "Besides, what makes you think I even like music that much? In fact, I hate it. I hate music so there, I can't help you with your ViewTube thing or whatever. I'd appreciate it if you just left my mail outside my door later, and if you could leave me alone from now on. Thanks."

The bus comes speeding down the road, tyres squeaking to a halt at a stop sign several yards away. Austin begins fumbling with his change, searching for the correct fare.

Beside him Dez isn't moving, he appears to be contemplating his next few words. "No one that hates music reacts to it the way you do. I heard you this morning, Austin, you're incredible and it's obvious that you get lost in it, even if you don't want to admit you do. I don't know what happened to make you feel so scared of getting lost, but whatever it is I can see that it hurts." Austin hands are shaking now and he's certain his heart has stopped beating. "I think that if you just stopped thinking so hard about everything and stopped letting this fear get to you, well I think you wouldn't be so sad all the time. If it feels right, and I think music does to you, then just go with the flow –"

Austin doesn't know if there's anything more to Dez's monologue for the man is cut off by the screech of the bus's wheels as it comes to a stop beside them. His mind is reeling, moving faster than it has in a long time. He feels like he's on fire.

Dez fixes him with a kind smile, his expression soft and eyes warm. "Don't be afraid to get lost, Austin." Dez slides in front of him, effectively cutting in line but Austin's too paralysed with thought to comment, and gets on the bus.

It's only as he hears the doors begin to slide shut does Austin jump into action, narrowly avoiding losing a limb as he climbs into the vehicle and hands over his loose change. It's unnaturally early so the bus is pretty empty, he could sit anywhere he likes and yet he finds himself dropping into the seat beside Dez.

"What if I'm already lost?" He asks, his voice barely audible over the noise of the engine and the rain slamming against the windows.

"Then maybe you need to be found," Dez says back, his voice equally as quiet. They're refusing to look at each other. Dez's eyes are following the water droplets on the window, and Austin is staring straight ahead.

"What if I don't want to be found?" There's a physical pain that comes with uttering those words. It's like he's just ripped out his teeth or peeled off his skin. It hurts to admit the truth and the proof is in the unshed tears stinging his eyes. He closes his eyes to blink the moisture from his eyes but finds that when he does all he sees is Ally's book and that just makes it hurt more.

"I think that you do," Dez replies, his voice gentle. He shifts in his seat, allowing his body to brush Austin's providing a physical comfort the blonde didn't know he'd needed.

"What makes you so sure?" He's praying his voice won't crack, doesn't want to make himself look like a bigger fool.

Finally, Dez turns to look at him and Austin is overwhelmed by the unconditional warmth the man exudes. "Because you could have sat anywhere on this bus and yet you chose to sit next to me."

Austin doesn't respond after that.


	6. Chapter 5

**Firstly, I'd like to thank you guys for being so patient with me. I'm aware I'm terrible at updating and keeping up with promises and I'm really sorry about that. So, because I love you guys so much and I'm grateful that you're sticking with the story here's an extra long chapter as a thank you/apology. Secondly, there's a bit in the middle, about 2000 or so words in that I'm not a massive fan of but I wrote it a couple of months ago and when I came back to it today to write the second half I couldn't work out how to get rid of it in the sense that I didn't know what to replace it with to make sense. So just a heads up. As always I'd really appreciate your thoughts on the chapter so I know what to improve on and also what you might like to see happen next.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Chapter Five

"What are you doing here?" Dallas asks, words slow and syrupy, eyes half-lidded with sleep. "Did your apartment catch fire again?"

Austin grunts in response as he shoulders passed his friend and into the surprisingly well-kept home, abandoned underwear and drug paraphernalia aside, of course.

"Aren't you supposed to be in work?" Dallas yawns, eyeing the blonde curiously as he makes himself comfortable on the expensive leather couch. There's a lacy pink bra hanging over the arm of couch which Dallas smirks proudly at before tossing it aside and flopping himself down into the seat beside Austin.

"Aren't you?" Austin fires back, eyebrows quirked and asking for a challenge. He folds his arms over his chest like his petulant inner child and pouts. "I don't wanna go."

"Are you gonna tell me why or are you just gonna sit there and sulk all morning?" Dallas says, there's an amused glint to his eyes because honestly, he loves when Austin shirks his responsibilities and hangs out with him instead. It's like Christmas, only it's October and he isn't being forced to sit through any awkward family gatherings.

Austin throws his head back and groans. "I just don't want to go in today, okay? It's been a long morning. Besides, it's not like my parents actually need me there anyway, they'd actually need customers for that."

"Well aren't you feeling salty this morning," Dallas cackles, his laugh bouncing off the walls with the kind of freedom Austin wishes his own could possess. "Your dad isn't gonna be happy about this, dude."

"So?" Austin snaps, lips curling into a nasty snarl. "He'll get over it. It's not like he's ever been happy with anything else I've ever done." For a moment his mind flashes back to California, to gritty sand and knowing phone calls.

Dallas rolls his eyes and heaves himself up off of the couch. Austin watches on in mild annoyance as the brunette wordlessly exits the room. Aren't friends supposed to listen to you when you have a problem? Aren't they supposed to be there as your shoulder to cry on when you need them most?

Fortunately, Austin isn't left questioning his friendship for long because Dallas soon returns, a small glass bowl and grinder in hand. The bowl is a pretty blue and Austin smiles when he sees it; of course Dallas knows exactly what he needs.

"Knew this place smelled of more than just takeout this morning," Austin grins, snatching the bowl from Dallas' hold.

"Yeah, it smells of sex too," The other boy replies, a wolfish smirk forming on his lips as he takes his seat next to Austin. "Mindy came over last night, you're lucky she left about ten minutes before you showed up."

"Good night then?" Austin asks, placing the bowl on Dallas' thigh as he starts packing the bowl. He's not really interested in Dallas' night, knows without being told exactly how it will have played out; Dallas is predictable.

"Fuck yeah," Dallas enthuses as he throws himself into a recount of the night before, hands waving wildly in exaggerated motions.

Austin shakes his head and chuckles, effectively stopping Dallas' storytelling for now. "You're aware we're talking about your life, right? We're not narrating _Fifty Shades of Grey_."

Dallas scowls, shoving his friend in the less than playful manner Austin has grown used to. "Shut up. Just because you're jealous I get more pussy than you do. Maybe if you spent as much time getting laid as you do mocking my accomplishments in the bedroom then you wouldn't be so strung out all the damn time."

Shrugging him off Austin hands Dallas the bowl. "Here, you can go first."

Dallas holds the bowl in his hand but does nothing, instead focusing his gaze on Austin. "You sure you want to do this? There's still time for you to make it to work."

It's uncharacteristic for Dallas to take an interest in Austin's work life, normally he's the devil on his shoulder encouraging him to ditch so that they can go get high or hit on girls. Austin appreciates the sentiment but ignores him nonetheless.

"I'm not going to work today," His decision is final.

Austin directs the bowl to Dallas's lips, with steady hands Austin lights the bowl for him. Lips curved around the coloured glass, Dallas' cheeks pull inward, body relaxing as he lets the sweet smoke curl into his lungs.

They've done this a thousand times before, though there's something a little too intimate, too close, in Austin's actions today. They replay in his mind over and over as he watches the smoke escape Dallas' lips, silver wisps floating into the air.

' _He's going to call you gay. He's going to think you're a faggot and he's going to kick you out_ ,' the voice in his head whispers, chastising him for being so soft.

To his relief, Dallas doesn't seem to have noticed, his cheeks have flushed a pleasant pink and his body has gone limp as he's flopped back against the cool leather seat. "D'you want me to light yours for you?"

Austin exhales a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Dallas hadn't seen anything _gay_ in his behaviour, hadn't called him out for holding his gaze as the other boy had inhaled. "Uh, sure, if you want," Austin shrugs, shoulders moving awkwardly in an attempt to exude nonchalance.

Without hesitation Dallas lifts the bowl to Austin's mouth, the blonde's lips part in surprise, he's taken aback by the gesture. They've never done it this way before. Not knowing what to say Austin settles for staring at the bowl instead. He watches transfixed as the orange glow appears. He doesn't light it for long but the smoke is still intense and it burns his throat considerably.

The boys continuing taking hits in silence, swapping back and forth until Austin is convinced his limbs are jelly and he can't so much as lift his hands left alone force his thumb to swipe across the lighter.

"Are you ready to talk now?" Dallas hums. His eyes are closed and he's spread out across the sofa so that his head rests on the arm of the chair and his socked feet are planted in Austin's lap. "Because I think I can stomach listening to your _feelings_ crap now."

Austin wants to pinch him but his body is too heavy to move. "I have this neighbour –"

"You know my motto dude, 'if she's cute fuck her,' there's your answer."

"My neighbour is a he, not a she," Austin steals a glance at his friend, gauging his reaction.

Dallas shrugs. "Maybe don't fuck him then… unless you want to, that is?" The movement is slow and for a second the brunette seems to blend into the hazy backdrop before becoming clear again as he props himself up on his elbows.

"I don't want to fuck him."

"Okay, so what about him then?" Dallas raises a lazy eyebrow, his feet moving to prod at Austin's thighs.

"He's just… he's annoying," The blond huffs, he tries to fold his arms over his chest but struggles to lift them high enough. When did his bones turn into lead? "Like, the walls are already paper thin but does he have to talk so loudly to himself at night? And why does he think my relationship with music is any of his business, you know?"

Dallas snorts, elbows giving out as his head falls back down onto the couch. "Are you sure you don't have a crush on this guy? You sound pretty worked up about him."

"I'm not gay," Austin replies starting to feel put out. They've had this conversation before, Austin will make an offhand comment or even on occasion stand in a slightly effeminate way and Dallas will pounce on him like a tiger digging into his prey.

In high school, back when Austin and Dallas had both played for their school's basketball team, banter like this had regularly been exchanged. Austin had been called 'gay' more times than he'd cared to count, and Dallas had been mocked mercilessly for his womanly features. As a teen Austin had been able to laugh such comments off, even taking part on numerous occasions, eventually though he'd grown out of it. Lately, however, it had begun to seem as though Dallas had not.

"So why are you so obsessed with this guy?" Dallas quizzes, tone more curious than it is mocking.

"I've talked about him literally once, and only because you asked," Austin points out, rolling his eyes at his friend. "I don't get why you keep acting like this."

"Like what?"

"Like you're sixteen and running your mouth after practice again. Newsflash dude, you're twenty four and it's not cool to act like a supreme douche bag anymore, I don't appreciate it."

"Geez, what crapped in your cornflakes this morning?" Dallas rolls his head to the side to stare at Austin in sheer bewilderment. "Wait, is that why you're pissed? Your neighbour crapped in your cornflakes, didn't he?"

"Could you be serious for like two seconds, please? And no one crapped in my cornflakes at all, but this has been going on for weeks now and you're really starting to piss me off," Austin admits, his skin feels prickly as he grows increasingly aggravated with Dallas' inability to listen. "I don't get what brought this on. I mean, you've always been a bit of a dick but lately? Fuck, like I don't get you."

Dallas is quiet, much to Austin's surprise, for some time. In fact, the brunette doesn't say anything for so long that Austin begins to wonder if he's fallen asleep. Finally, after what feels like an hour but couldn't be longer than a minute, Dallas responds. "Sometimes I forget that we're not in high school anymore, that the glory days are long gone, and I miss them so much, you know? I miss feeling like we were on top of the world and that nothing could stop us. I miss feeling so loved by everyone we knew and knowing that we could do wrong in the eyes of no one, but now? Now even my mom can't stand to see my sorry ass, and I can't even remember the last time I stood back and looked at my life and really liked what I saw."

"Lately, I don't know… lately I guess I've just been feeling kind of lost and I didn't really know what to do. I mean, you've always been there for me but then you moved into your own place and you became a ghost. I feel like I don't even see you anymore unless you want something, so I thought that maybe if I started acting like I did when we were in high school then maybe I'd start feeling that way too? But I guess all I managed to achieve was making even my best friend think I'm a dick, huh?"

Austin doesn't know what to say. Truthfully, Dallas' words have shaken him. He's thought for quite some time now that he's the only person that misses high school, has considered himself completely alone in his hatred for the life he leads, and Dallas, whom he'd thought was completely happy in his life of debauchery and drugs, is on the exact same page as him.

"Dude –" he begins but Dallas cuts him off with a wave of his hand.

"I know we don't do _feelings_ ," there's an air of disgust in Dallas' voice as he uses the word, like even at his lowest he won't let himself seem weak. "So I'm sorry I'm being emo as fuck right now."

Austin snorts. "Dude, I don't mind. There's nothing wrong with feelings, they're what makes us human after all. I'm just sorry you didn't feel you could talk about this with me before."

Dallas shrugs. "It's not that… I just, like I said, I was trying to be like we were in high school and the closest we ever got to feelings then was that night you slept with Ally for the first time, remember?"

How could he forget? That night had been the most awkward, yet most special occasion of Austin's teenage life. The only sour note being that he'd had to call Dallas from Ally's bathroom to ask him how to put the condom on first.

Dallas smirks as he recalls the memory also. "I can see you pouting but you need to get over that, okay? It was fucking hilarious and deep down I think you know that. I always thought I'd tell that story at your wedding. Figured you and Ally would glare at me throughout the whole of my best man speech while Mr Dawson exploded quietly in the corner."

It isn't a surprise that Dallas had assumed Austin and Ally would one day marry. Austin had honestly believed it too at one point. He doesn't suppose Dallas lies awake at night at thinks about it though. It's only Austin that's kept awake fantasising about his ex-girlfriend adorned in a beautiful white gown standing in front of everyone they know, confessing their undying love for each other.

"Funny how things work out," Austin breathes.

Noting Austin's melancholy, Dallas nudges him with his foot. "I guess this explains your issue, then?"

Austin frowns, brow furrowing in confusion. "Not really? I mean, I'm still annoyed at Dez-"

"No, not that, I meant your dating issue. You know, the reason you haven't been on a date in forever, and the reason I kinda thought you were in some deep seated denial about your sexuality this whole time, but no, it turns out you're still hung up over Ally. Dude! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Okay, one, I'm not nor have I ever been in denial about my sexuality. I'm as straight as a ruler, thank you very much." Austin pushes Dallas' feet out of his lap, nose wrinkling at the stench now permeating his nasal cavities. "When was the last time you took a bath?" Dallas kicks him but says nothing. "And I'm not still into Ally. It's been six years, she's let it go and so should you."

Dallas snorts. "Yeah, she's let it go but you haven't. Besides you and I both know who her songs are about, we both know it's you she's singing to. Or are you incapable of reading between the lines?"

Something inside Austin bristles. He's the not so proud owner of every single song Ally has ever released, of course he's scrutinised every little lyric, every meaningful line, and every time he's come up short. "Are we listening to the same songs?" He asks, incredulous. "Her songs aren't about me –"

"No, they're about love and all that sappy shit the world buys into. Ally writes from experience, four years of high school taught me that, and the only experience she's had is with you. Ergo all her songs are about you, case closed." Dallas is wearing a grin, proud of his own deduction skills. Austin wants to punch him.

Instead the blond shakes his head, allowing Dallas' words to slide off of him like water to a duck's back. "We don't know that I'm the only experience she's ever had."

"We do because she's a celebrity so if anyone remotely male looking so much as breathes on her it's automatically the number one story on _E!News_. Anyway, how else are you gonna explain that song about yearning for a lost love or whatever you want to call it?"

"The song is called 'Owen' and she dedicated it to her cockatiel after he died, dumbass." Austin snuggles down into the cushions of the couch. He's tired of this conversation now, just wants to sleep; he doesn't get to do that often in his own apartment, Dez's voice ringing loud and lively on the other side of the wall.

Dallas snorts in disbelief, his nostrils flaring until they look like the mouths of tiny caves. "I doubt that, no one loves birds _that_ much. Dude, when have I ever steered you wrong? I swear I wouldn't be telling you this if I wasn't so sure of it myself. That song is about you!"

"Whatever man," Austin hums, pleasant lethargy pulling at his eyes until they're shut. He rolls over onto his side, pressing himself as close to the pillows as possible. The couch is almost as comfortable as his bed. "Goodnight, Dallas."

There's a murmur from across the way, a blend of words Austin's tired brain can't decipher. They sound nice though, tintinnabulating in his ear and lulling him into slumber. A light weight falls on his shoulder and Austin registers that it's Dallas' duvet just before he drifts into a dream.

His friend isn't so bad after all.

* * *

Waking up with his legs entwined with his best friend's had been nothing short of awkward, if only because Dallas has outright refused to get up and Austin was left to struggle to his feet and stumble out of the door, sleep still clinging to the creases of his eyes. There's a voice in the back of his mind muttering the 'G word' like a broken record on repeat. Austin scrambles through the door without so much as a goodbye in Dallas' direction; the other boy doesn't appear to notice.

The sun is out when Austin graces the footpath outside Dallas' complex. It's mid-afternoon and a quick glance at his phone tells him his parents have been searching for him all day. Oh well.

The street is amok with children and parents, clearly the elementary school a block or so away has just let out for the day. Austin trails behind a family of three, watching them with something akin to envy as they stroll.

The man is tall with broad shoulders, his fair hair receding somewhat, and there are thick rimmed glasses pinching the bridge of his nose. The woman, presumably his wife, is considerably shorter with a waterfall of chocolate curls cascading down her back. There is a child between them, dark haired like its mother, singing gleefully about the birds in the trees. They're a picture of the future Austin can never have.

The family turn left down the street as Austin continues forward. His mind taunts him with flashes of himself and Ally holding hands and walking their own child home from school. It's ridiculous, he's only twenty four and nowhere near old enough to want these things and yet his heart grows heavier with every second step he takes, his brain clouded with thoughts of a lost fate.

Before long Austin finds himself closer to home, or rather the building he mopes in most often. His stomach gurgles, protesting the lack of food it has been gifted during the day. Reluctantly, Austin turns away from the pathway and darts towards the nearest bus stop. Mal-Mart is calling him.

* * *

As a child Austin had always loved dashing down the aisles of the city's largest superstore. For a while his father had joined in with the game, chasing his son through the dairy section and over into clothing, whilst his wife shook her head and chided them both for their silly behaviour, though there was always a smile on her face when she spoke. Now he's older Austin still likes to dart through the supermarket as quickly as possible, though now it's less about fun and more about necessity.

It's the first time he's stepped foot in this particular Mal-Mart, the old one he used to shop at too far away from his new apartment to be considered convenient. The store is not dissimilar to its sister, both sharing busy parking lots and overstuffed shelves of non-perishables. The only change is the size, this brand of Mal-Mart is significantly smaller.

Austin hurries through the store, tossing the cheapest products necessary into his plastic green basket. He battles his way through the vegetable aisle, scooting passed mothers with carts crammed with fruit and children. It's only as he's debating which brand of cereal to buy does he see a flash of fiery orange in his peripheral vision.

Some might label him insane, and there's a chance Austin might even agree with them, as he shoots down aisle seven, forgoing his preferred choice of cereal and selecting the box closest to his hand; _Fiber Nuts._ His battered sneakers carry him through a maze of stock, cans of _Peppy Cola_ and boxes of _Fudge Balls_ flying by in the furrow.

He ends up in the beauty section, hidden behind an impressive tower of loofahs, Austin finally allows himself to pause. His chest is rising and falling in rapid succession and the sound of his ragged breaths is louder than that of the store's AC system. He knows he's being ridiculous but Dez's words on the bus have stuck to him like glue, clinging to his skin like the result of a drunken night and a cheap tattoo parlour. He hates them.

The universe hates him, is the thing, and it's only as Austin's heart has calmed that the man turns to head back to the extensive cereal selection several aisles away that he is greeted with the sight of his obscenely long limbed neighbour chatting amicably with a woman Austin doesn't recognise. The shriek that escapes Austin's lips is probably what draws Dez's eyes to him, that or the clatter of Austin's basket dropping to the floor, he can't be sure.

Eyes wide and an embarrassed flush painting his cheeks, Austin clambers to his knees and begins haphazardly throwing his shopping back into the basket. Sensing Dez's eyes on him, Austin lets out a boisterous and painfully false laugh. "Oh! That's what I was looking for!" He proclaims, reaching out towards the nearest shelf and grasping closest product within range. He reads out the words on the bottle, noting the scarlet red label. "Strawberry flavoured lube –" Pause. Fuck. If people weren't watching him before they certainly are now; everybody wants to take a look at the store's in-house sex fiend. "Just what I wanted," He trails of, fake smile now tugging achingly at his cheeks.

He pivots awkwardly, turning his flaming face away from the crowd of onlookers that have gathered to watch him with mocking eyes. His own brown orbs burn with the need to cry with shame but he won't, he refuses.

He hides out in the men's restroom until he's certain the coast is clear.

* * *

His grocery basket hangs uncomfortably on his arm, its heft weight slowing his steps towards the cash register. Before the lube debacle the basket hadn't been anywhere near as heavy, the stop Austin had made in the alcohol aisle had done a lot to change that.

Forty minutes locked in a cramped public toilet can do a lot to one's mind. For instance, the time Austin spent perched atop a dirty toilet seat, listening carefully for the sound of shoppers ready to taunt him, had done little to quell the blond boy's shame. In fact, it had only served to distress him further, the brief seconds his foot had spent dunked in filthy toilet water had pushed him closer to his breaking point if anything.

So, with his lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes downcast, Austin had strode through aisle twelve and proceed to load himself up with bottle after bottle of high content alcohol. Cheap vodka was decidedly his new best friend; sorry Dallas.

The store is quieter now, only the irregular beeps of the cash registers echo through the air. Austin doesn't feel up to dealing with a pizza-faced teenager today and opts for the self-service line instead. He moves towards the closest machine and begins scanning his purchases through as quickly as his body will allow. The motion is clumsy but it gets the job done.

The light above his register flashes from green to red, and a notification pops up on the screen informing him that ' _assistance is on its way_ '. Austin groans, he'd forgotten he'd still need to provide his ID to a cashier regardless of which service option he chose. _Damn age restrictions._

"You're clearly not old enough to buy that," comes the teasing tone of a voice behind him.

Any other person might have laughed, allowed the playful jibe to tingle delightfully through their bones at the idea they still look young enough to pass for twenty one. However, Austin's blood runs cold and he finds himself red faced yet again and blinking into the eyes of his annoyingly persistent neighbour.

"Seriously?" Austin asks, though the question is directed more to the universe and its inner workings than it is the boy before him. Dez answers anyway.

"Hello to you too," He grins, blue eyes shimmering like lights on water. "If you don't mind I'm going to have to see some ID."

Austin scowls at him, reluctantly thumbing through his wallet for his driver's license. He hands it over to Dez, taking in the man's ugly work uniform and grimacing. "I didn't know you worked here. You're up so late at night I didn't think you worked at all."

Dez laughs, the jubilant noise dancing around Austin's ears and setting envy aflame in his chest; _how is one man allowed to be so happy?_

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Austin Moon," He's maybe trying to come across as playful and mysterious, if the eyebrow raise and sultry tone is anything to go by, but Austin can't help but think Dez just looks stupid. That in itself actually makes Austin chuckle. "Ah, so you do have a smile. It's nice, I like it. Beautiful, even."

Despite himself, Austin's cheeks flare an embarrassing shade of pink. It's been a while since he's received a compliment that sounded so sincere. "I'm smiling at you, not with you." There's another amused eyebrow raise from Dez. "Shut up, you know what I meant."

"Are you even sure what you mean?" Dez smirks, grin threatening to swallow him whole as he hands back Austin's ID. There's a glimmer in the taller boy's eye which tells Austin his words were understood but they were taken with the pinch of sunshine Dez always seems to radiate.

Austin chooses to ignore him. Or he tries too, at least, however there is no denying the eternal warmth that Dez's skin translucent skin transmits.

"You live in Miami, how are you so pale?" The question falls unwittingly from Austin's mouth, and the voice in his head scolds him for volunteering conversation. He's not supposed to talk to Dez, not after the bus, not after he realised how easy it had been for Dez to crawl under his skin and make a home for himself there.

Dez doesn't look at him when he answers, too busy dealing with the now malfunctioning cash register, but Austin can hear the smile in his voice anyway. "Isn't it obvious? I'm a vampire, duh."

Austin snorts at the childish answer but the corners of his lips twitch regardless. "Sure and I'm a unicorn."

Dez neighs in response, his fingers jabbing at the touchscreen between them, actions impatient and increasingly frustrated. "You had to pick the one checkout in this joint that doesn't work, didn't you?" He begins gathering the evidence of Austin's shopping spree in his arms and transporting them to the next machine over.

The voice in his head his waving its fists to the sky and stomping its metaphorical feet around Austin's cerebral cortex, irked by the extension in time not spent shaking hands with the dark parts of his thoughts. Dez is too loud and too much for the voice to deal with, he overpowers it easily with a super-sized smile and a collection of nonsensical sentences.

"This is your fault," Austin informs him, shifting the abundance of spirits and wines from one register to the next.

Dez rolls his eyes but there's affection behind the action. "Clearly. Guess that makes you special though, right? I just broke a no doubt expensive piece of store equipment just to spend five more minutes talking to you. I'm quite the Lothario."

A raucous giggle rips its way through Austin's chest, demolishing his chest cavity and shoving aside the increasingly agitated whisper behind his eyes. "'You' and 'lothario' are two words I didn't expect to hear in a sentence today."

"I'll have you know my friends call me Doctor Love," Dez winks, eyes glittering with mirth as he helps Austin scan his items through for the second time. "Though perhaps you look down on me because I'm not quite on your level."

Austin frowns in confusion, not understanding Dez's point. At least he doesn't understand it until Dez dangles a familiar tube of remorseful red in front of his nose. Austin blushes a similar colour to that of the offending item and snatches it from Dez's grasp, too ashamed to admit his earlier mistake. "Give me my lube."

"Now that's a sentence I definitely didn't expect to hear today," Dez howls, amusement hitting him so hard he practically topples over into the path of an oncoming customer.

"Shut up," Austin squawks stuffing the lube in a bag and continuing with his work. He juggles the extra-large bottles of vodka in his arms, endeavouring to fit them in the same bag so he doesn't have to go out of his way to fetch another one. Dez brings him one anyway, smirking as he holds out the flimsy plastic. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe I might be buying it for someone else, huh?"

The sentence only serves to make the smirk on Dez's lips expand.

Naturally, Austin continues to dig himself a hole. "Maybe I'm buying it for a friend."

"What friend?" Dez presses, mischief lacing through his words.

He could say the lube is for Dallas, of course, Austin never did possess the ability to lie skilfully on his feet. "You. I'm buying the lube for you." The smirk drops off of Dez's face, gravity pulling it away and replacing it with a mild look of surprise. Austin picks up on the implication immediately. "Obviously not for you and I to use together because I'm straight, straight as a board. I'm, uh… I'm buying it for you and Dalton to use together because you're together because… yeah… being neighbourly and whatnot… so, once again, the lube is for you, not me, but not for me to use on you because that would be wrong… but not wrong because it's gay! God, no, just wrong because you're with Dalton and that's morally reprehensible and obviously because I'm straight and not in to dude. Boy, do I love tits!"

Dez continues to stare at him for a long moment, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly like words have escaped him. Austin can only look on in horror as his own words replay again and again in his head. The voice mocks him.

"Dalton and I aren't together," is the only thing that Dez offers.

Austin blinks. "That's the only thing you took away from that whole spiel?"

The redhead shrugs, emerald green shirt rising with his shoulders and displaying a thin expanse of Dez's pale stomach. "Honestly, I'm kinda surprised to hear you say so much all at once."

"I'm not awkward," Austin mumbles though he knows he's lying to himself. He never used to be this way. He used to be confident and sure of himself to the point of cockiness; he wasn't voted Prom King for nothing. Nevertheless, he's grateful that Dez has chosen to ignore the ridiculous monologue that had spouted from his lips.

Feeding the machine a crumpled fifty, Austin inquires, "What happened with Dalton?" He isn't sure why he asks, it's none of his business and it's not like he and Dez are technically friends, but the words slip themselves through his open mouth before he really has chance to think about them.

Dez hums in response, picking up Austin's grocery bags and cradling them in his arms like they're his own bulky children. "Come on, I'll walk you out."

"Aren't you supposed to man the self-service registers?" Austin asks, gesturing to the name tag fitted to Dez's shirt, below his name (which is unfortunately typed in Comic Sans, Austin shudders) is his job title and Austin thinks there's a chance the man could get fired for abandoning his post.

Dez is as nonchalant as ever as he tells him Shelley will cover for him in his absence; Shelley is middle-aged and resembles an angry looking bulldog, Austin chooses not to comment. "Besides it's not like we're busy right now." Dez makes a fair point, the store looks almost as devoid of customers as the Mattress Kingdom always is.

The duo walk together in silence, their steps synced and Dez humming a tune Austin can't say he recognises, though he feels certain it relates back to Bublé.

"Dalton put me in the friend zone," Dez explains as they approach the store's sliding front doors. The weight of the bags appear to be taking their toll on his muscles but he rejects any advances Austin makes to relieve their burden.

If they were friends Austin might say something comforting, might even place a hand on the taller boy's shoulder and rub comforting circles in soothing motions. They aren't friends though, they're caught in limbo, nothing more than acquaintances but the more Austin allows himself to bask in Dez's permanent warm glow, the more the lines seem to blur and Austin finds himself unsure of what to do. The voice demands loneliness, tells him he deserves it and that Ally can be his only solace. So Austin says nothing.

For a second there is a far off look in Dez's eye but it vanishes faster than it appears. "He put me in the friend zone but he said he still wants me to suck his dick, so I'm in the dick sucking friend zone." The redhead wrinkles his nose in distaste, freckles cavorting across his cheeks like sand along the shore. "But its fine, I'm over it. It's his loss, not mine, in fact I think it might be my gain."

"How'd you figure that?" Austin says and the question comes from somewhere deep within his body, it bubbles at his throat and spills from his mouth like lava from the crater of a volcano. "I mean, why do you think that Dalton leaving you is a good thing? Like, how do you know that?" He thinks of Ally.

"For one thing he was probably the worst person I've ever kissed," Dez says, a small smile curving the cupids-bow of his lips. "It was like he was constantly trying to block my airway with his tongue." The boys shudder, no one appreciates a shitty kisser. "But aside from that? I guess it's because after a couple of days of hurting and letting the memories of that person consume you, you see that turning the page is the best feeling in the world, because you realise that there's so much more to the book than the page you were stuck on."

Austin considers Dez's words, mulls them over and plasters them to every corner of his mind, paints them vibrant colours and holds them close to his chest. Dez is far more profound than Austin has given him credit for.

"Though it wasn't all down to me," Dez continues. "Trish was the one that retweeted it on to my timeline, and Zayn Malik is the one that tweeted it in the first place so I guess what I'm trying to say is Zayn Malik helped me get over my break up."

Austin breathes out a laugh. "You're an idiot."

"Correction; I am a vampire, and you my blond haired friend are a unicorn."


End file.
